Author: SerenaJ
Title: An Adulterous Hypothesis
Part: Zahra #2
Summary: "I always wondered how people do it anyway." "Do what?"
"Discreetly squeeze into that tiny bathroom and do anything." "Go
to the bathroom and find out."
Keywords: MF, cons, piv, job, cheat



It had been easier than she expected.  No guilt, no jealousy, no
lingering awkwardness.  Everything was just as it was before she
and Karl…fucked.  Zahra had no illusions about ‘making love’.  It
was carnal – wonderful but carnal.  They all seemed to know that
it was just a fleeting passion.  She had expected Rick, at least
to say something.  After he caught them – watched them – Rick had
fucked her on the conference room floor.  And in the restaurant
bathroom.  And again when they got home that night.  He only
mentioned the event once, three days later.

“He didn’t eat you,” he commented casually as he sucked her
nipples, “Did you want him to?”

She shrugged.  “It wasn’t….  I don’t know.  It all seemed right
the way it happened.”

“I couldn’t hear you. Did you cum?” He fingered her slit making
it hard for her to answer.

“Yeah.  Twice.”  She reached for his hardness and guided him into
her.  He pulled out just long enough to roll her on her side.

“Would you like to do it again?”

“With him?”

“Maybe.”  Rick slowly pumped her from behind.  “With anybody.”

He felt so good.  She sighed, “Oh God, that’s good.”

He stopped.  “Say it.”

“Say what?” She pushed her hips against him but he held her
still.

“Say you want to make love to another man.”

Over her shoulder, she looked at him.  “What?”

“Tell me that you’re capable of lust, passion.  That you’re not
the boring little goody-goody that I was afraid I married.  Tell
me you want another man.”

“I want another man, Rick.”  He began moving again.  “I want
another man to fuck me like you do.  Harder.  I want to suck him
off so he can cum in my mouth.  Oh, God.  I want him to suck my
tits ‘til I scream.”  She could not speak anymore and after she
came hard, Rick rolled over so that she was on top.  She rode him
until her back gave out.  He did the lifting for a few minutes –
which always made her crazy, knowing just how strong he was. 
Then, they flipped over and he slammed into her with one of her
legs over his shoulder.

He always went in deep that way.  Too deep.  Bang-the-cervix
deep.  It hurt.  But when he came inside her, that deep, it was
heaven.

“Do you want him like this?”  Rick gasped, plowing her hard and
fast.

“Yes, yes, yes!”

Rick came and a moment later, Zahra came again.  They lay panting
and sweating until they fell asleep, spooned together.

That was the only discussion they had of her infidelity.

The next week, Zahra and Karl nearly lived in the office as the
conference zero hour approached.

The day before it started found Zahra, Rick and Karl at Gate F3
waiting for the 8:36 flight to Indianapolis.

“Who plans a week-long conference in Indi-fucking-anapolis?”
griped Rick while flipping through a newspaper he’d found.

“Could have been worse – I had to talk her out of Salt Lake
City.” Karl commented.

“Why the hell would anybody…?”

“They had the best room rates.”

Rick rolled his eyes.  “God damn accountant.”

“Anytime you want to start balancing your own check book,” Zahra
said sweetly, “you just let me know.”

“I love you, honey.”  Rick laughed and kissed her cheek.  He
glanced at his watch.  “Jeez, it’s Indi-fucking-anapolis.  You’d
think they could leave on time.”

“I’ll see what the hold up is.”  Karl headed for the desk and
Rick picked up the paper again.

As Karl walked away, Zahra had one last nagging doubt.  “Rick?” 
He looked at her.  “Are you sure you don’t want to go?”

His brow furrowed.  “To Indi-fucking-anapolis?”

“I mean, are you sure you’re ok with me being gone for a week,”
she paused, “with Karl.”

“Oh.”  He went back to the paper.

She was not sure if she was more pleased with his trust or
infuriated by his indifference.  “Rick!  Some kind of response
would be nice.”

He looked at her again.  “I would bet the house that you don’t
have the back bone to do it twice.”  He went back to the paper. 
“But if it’s of any consolation, he and I spoke while you were in
the rest room.”

“And?”

“And, if you were placed in an adulterous situation, he knows how
I feel on the subject.  Hypothetically speaking, of course.”

Karl returned before she could ask for a more detailed answer. 
“They’re going to start boarding in a minute.  Let me have your
ticket.”  He took it and went back to the desk.

Rick patted her knee.  “Be right back.”  He headed for the rest
room.

They were both returning when the Attendant made the first
boarding call.

“That’s us.”  Karl grabbed his bags.

Zahra stayed seated.  “Pre-board and first class only.”

“The best thing about too much travel?”  Karl waved the tickets
at her.  “Frequent Flyer Upgrades.”

“You the man!”  Rick picked up her laptop.  “Always travel in
style!”

Thirty minutes later, the plane was taxiing down the runway and
Zahra was already making a list of people to call when they
landed.  She barely noticed the breakfast they served and passed
on the early morning glass of champagne.

Midway through the flight, Karl put down his paperwork.  “Mind if
I ask you something?”

“Of course not.”

“You and Rick members of the mile high club?”

“No.”  She blushed slightly.

“Want to join?”

“Karl!”  She was not sure if he was joking.

He shook his head and got up.  By the time, he returned she
figured it out.

“Rick up you up to that, didn’t he?”

“Rick guaranteed me that you’d say no, but I thought I’d try
anyway.”

“Oh.”  So predictable.  So dull.  Zahra went back to her
paperwork a little more disappointed with herself.  She reminded
herself that the airlines frowned on such behavior.  Besides, it
had to be a myth – how do you discreetly fuck on an airplane? 
“I’ve always wondered how people do it anyway.”

“Do what?”

“Discreetly squeeze into that tiny bathroom and do anything.”

“Go to the bathroom and find out.”

She stared at him.  His face was mirthful but gave her no clue if
he was serious or not.  Her heart pounded.  This was crazy.  She
closed her file.  It would certainly show Rick.  She undid her
seat belt and for a moment was too terrified to stand.  Even she
did not believe she would do it.  She walked down to the
bathroom, entered, and locked the door.  As she used the
facility, her knees nearly touched the door.

‘It’s too small,’ she thought, ’Can’t be done.’ She washed her
hands.

When she opened the door, Karl pushed in and locked the door
again.  She started to protest but he hushed her.

“First rule of discretion,” he whispered, “be quiet.  Up.”  He
put his hands on her hips and helped her to sit on the sink.

He kissed her.  His lips were soft.  Her eyes fell shut and she
parted her lips gently.  For a few moments, their lips and
tongues were the only things touching.  Slowly he slid his hands
up her sides and over her breasts.  Her nipples hardened
instantly under the light tee shirt she wore.  She pushed them
against his palms and shivered.  She put her hands on his broad
shoulders feeling the hard muscles underneath.  It was horrible
to do this twice.  Even if Rick did suspect – even if he
discreetly approved it – if he wasn’t here, it was still
cheating.  And yet, she found her pulsing quickening like never
before as if the very guilt of her action was what was igniting
her.

Karl was rolling her nipples between her shirt and his fingertips
sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout her body.  She groaned
into their kiss and slid her hand down to his chest to see if the
action would do the same for him.  Rick hated it when she played
with his nipples; Karl groaned and shivered.  His hands released
her chest long enough to pull her shirt up and caress them
directly inside the bustier she had chosen to travel in.

“You have the most amazing taste in lingerie,” he moaned, pulling
his tongue out of her tonsils to say the words and take a breath.
 He devoured her lips with renewed vigor, pushing her against the
tiny mirror in the small compartment.  Zahra struggled to get her
hands under his shirt.  She wanted – suddenly needed – to feel
the heat of his skin directly not the knit of his polo shirt.

One of Karl’s hands began stroking her leg.  Slowly pushing her
skirt up and bunching it around her waist.  His fingers traced
around the edge of her flowered cotton underwear.  The back of
her mind was aware of the image – a black satin bustier pushing
her tits forward because it helped her back on long trips and
innocent pink flowered panties because they didn’t itch.  It
would have been laughable if she had the breath for it.  It
certainly was the last combination she would have worn if she had
any idea she would be here in the restroom desperately trying to
get her hands on Karl’s belt.

His fingers slipped inside the panties and his thumb flicked past
her clit as his fingers pushed inside her.

She cried out but he shushed her. “Quiet.  Shhhh.  Don’t scream.”
His voice in her ear was barely a raspy whisper.

Zahra put her arms around his neck and clung to him.  “Oh, God,
Oh, God,” she panted into his neck.  Every few strokes, he seemed
to add another finger until she felt like he must have his whole
hand inside her.

Or should have.  When his thumb began rubbing her clit
insistently along with everything else, it was all Zahra could do
to not bit down on his neck to keep from screaming.  She felt her
whole body clinch and she curled partway around him trying to
keep her orgasm silent.  The whole world shook.  Karl kept moving
his hand until she begged him, virtually exhausted, to stop.

As she tried to remain conscious, there was a knock on the door.

“Ma’am?  I’m sorry, but the Captain has turned on the seatbelt
sign.  You need to return to your seat, as soon as possible.”

“Wha?”  Zahra found it almost impossible to focus on the voice
but Karl grinned at her and pointed at the light next to the
door.  “Uh, oh.  Uh, yes.  Of course, I’ll, uh…”

“Are you ok, ma’am?”  The emphasis on the ‘ma’am’ this time made
Zahra begin to suspect that the flight attendant knew exactly
what the problem was.

“I, um…” Her brain finally kicked over and started functioning. 
“A little airsick.  I’ll be fine in a moment.  I’ll be right
out.”  Another thought occurred to her and Zahra had a mild
panic.  “How do we get out of here?” she whispered frantically to
Karl.

His grin turned a bit sheepish, “I don’t think we can.  Not
without being seen, I mean.”

“Oh God!” she groaned as Karl helped her down in the cramp space.
 ‘I might as well stencil whore across my forehead,’ she thought
to herself.

“You go first,” he whispered, “I need another minute.” He
unlocked the door and she slipped out.

She heard the door lock behind her as the Attendants pointedly
looked at her.  She straightened her shoulders and made the very
short, very long walk back to her first class seat.  Despite her
fears, no one seemed to notice her at all.  She buckled her seat
belt and picked up her note pad.  When Karl returned to his seat,
he too went back to work without commenting on their encounter. 
Moments later, the Captian announced their landing and they both
hastily up righted their seats and re-packed their papers and
pens.

As they made their way through the airport to the shuttle buses
and taxies, Zahra’s cell phone rang.

Rick.

Guilt coursed through her nerves as she answered the call. “Hi,
Sweetie; we just landed.”

“Got a question for you.”

“Of course, Sweetie, what?”

“Hypothetically, let’s say I know a horny little slut that keeps
sleeping around on her husband.” Zahra stopped cold and nearly
dropped the phone. “Zahra?  You there?”

“I’m here.” Her voice cracked.

“Hypothetically, right?”

“Right.”

“Right.  So, hypothetically, would this adulterous little cunt
have gotten eaten or fucked on a plane?”

“Uh…” Her throat was dry.  She glanced at Karl but he was
tactfully studying a car insurance ad. “Since this is
hypothetical, why don’t we say things never advanced beyond
manual stimulation?”

“So this two-timing hussy owes her loving husband a hand job?”

She took a deep breath, “Rick, Sweetie, I….”

“Un-un.  We’re talking hypothetically here.  Don’t mess this up.
Does the theoretical little cum-slut owe her forgiving husband a
hand job?”

She suddenly remembered their conversation about other men and
realized what was happening.  This was a fantasy of Rick’s.  She
was living out one of his fantasies – for once.  “Yes, Sweetie. 
I think, hypothetically, she owes him a hand job.” Zahra felt
herself getting very, very wet.  “So far.”

* * * * * *

Thank you for reading the whole thing. More of my work can be
found at http://www1.asstr.org/files/Authors/SerenaJ/